


When a Slytherin's Plan Fails

by lesyeuxverts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Courtship, M/M, Post-War, Veritaserum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1253413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesyeuxverts/pseuds/lesyeuxverts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie wasn't the stupidest of the Weasleys, true, but Draco was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, and his plan was going to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When a Slytherin's Plan Fails

The preparations were complete. Draco held his breath and curled his fingers into fists, pushing the glass of whiskey across the table to Charlie. The glass scraped across the wood, and Draco unclenched his fingers. It was going to work.  
  
Charlie wasn't the stupidest of the Weasleys, true, but Draco was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, and his plan was going to work. He took a deep gulp from his own drink, trying not to grimace when the whiskey burned. Nothing as good as the whiskeys that Father had kept in his cellars, once upon a time, but this was where he had managed to lure the Weasley, and sacrifices had to be made, after all.   
  
Charlie raised an eyebrow at Draco before taking a sip of his drink. He wasn't unattractive, underneath the red hair and all the freckles – his eyebrows were singed, and he didn't have the long, lanky look of his older brother, but all things considered, he was quite fit. For a Weasley.  
  
Draco took another gulp of his whiskey, studying the glass suspiciously. It was entirely possible that the barmaid had managed to switch the two glasses, in spite of the handsome fee that Draco had paid her – entirely possible that Draco's drink had been tampered with, because he did not, had not, and would never think that Charlie Weasley was fit under normal circumstances. It was out of the question.  
  
"I hear that the preparations for the Gala Ball to commemorate the war are complete," Charlie said. "Father and Percy are still at the Ministry, you know, and they tell me that it's to be quite the event."  
  
"Yes," Draco said. He had been invited – the only one of the Malfoys who still had the right to be there – but if his plan failed, he wouldn't bother to go. Fingers clenching around his glass, Draco gave Weasley a tight nod. "I hear it's to be quite the event."  
  
He looked up at Charlie, managing to sneak a look past him at the clock on the far wall. Ten minutes had passed – it should be working.   
  
Draco licked his lips and gave Charlie his best seductive look, the one he had practiced for hours in front of his mirror. It hadn't yet failed to make the glass coo and melt.  
  
"Do you think–" he began, just as Charlie gripped the table with both hands, turning pale.   
  
"Draco–"  
  
It didn't take long at all for Veritaserum to work. Draco licked his lips again and looked straight at Charlie. "Do you think you'd like to go to the Gala Ball with me?"  
  
There was nothing foolproof about Draco's plan – he was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, but the war had taught him that those qualities didn't always make for success. He held one hand out to Charlie, palm up, and waited.  
  
If the signals that Charlie had been giving him meant what Draco thought – if the accidental touches, the brush of hands, the admiring looks, the compliments meant _anything_ , then Charlie would say yes. Draco wouldn't be forced to appear at the Gala without an escort, and he would ally himself with the Weasley family in the eyes of the Ministry and the public. Redemption for his family and himself, and a date with Charlie Weasley, who was the most tolerable of the Weasleys, and – Draco had to admit – not entirely unpleasant to look at.  
  
Charlie stared at him for a minute, and then started to laugh. "Bloody hell, Draco. You spiked my drink with Veritaserum to ask me _that_?"  
  
Draco sniffed and gave Charlie his best disdainful look. "Would I stoop that low?"  
  
"That was rhetorical, I hope." Charlie stretched out, his legs hitting Draco's. He ran one foot up the inside of Draco's leg and winked at him. "So, you want to go to the Gala with me?"  
  
This wasn't in the plan at all. Draco's drink sloshed over the rim of his glass, onto his fingers and the dark wood of the table. "You – you're supposed to answer the question."  
  
"Normal people ask questions like that without resorting to Veritaserum." Charlie gave him a quick grin and raised his glass to his lips, barely wetting his lips before setting it down again. "I've a pretty high tolerance for the stuff, after having been in the Order – and Snape made sure we all knew how to tell when our drink was spiked with it."  
  
Draco clenched his jaw and pushed his drink across the table at Weasley. "No?"   
  
Not waiting for an answer, he pushed his chair back and stood. "I'll just be going, then–"  
  
Charlie downed Draco's drink in one gulp and shoved the empty glass at him. "Get me another drink." When Draco hesitated, he stood, shoving the glass in Draco's face. "It's the least you can do to make up for wasting good whiskey and trying to drug me."  
  
"I'd hardly call _that_ good whiskey."  
  
"Don't be such a snob." Charlie grabbed Draco's wrist and held it, forcing the glass into his hand. "I expect you to behave better than that when you're on a date with me and whenever we're in public together."  
  
"Does that mean–"  
  
"Yes," Charlie said. He raked his eyes up and down the length of Draco's body and grinned at him. "But don't think that you'll get such good results if you try to drug my drink again, Draco. Next time … just ask."  
  
When Charlie released his wrist, Draco stumbled, caught off-balance. Hardly knowing where he was going, he went to the bar and ordered another whiskey for Charlie.  
  
The barmaid gave him a knowing look. "Your plan didn't work, then? Looks like he figured out about the potion in his drink right quick."  
  
Draco shook his head. It had worked – not _quite_ the way that Draco had imagined, but Charlie had said yes, and that was all that mattered in the end.


End file.
